My Beautiful Rescue
by VeryValerie
Summary: Tate Langdon is a teacher at Westfield High with a dark past. He meets fearless, sarcastic Violet who had the same attraction to the darkness as he once had. Yet she's different... (AU Violate, TS)
1. Amber

Violet~

A cloud of smoke delicately escaped Violet's nostrils as she slowly exhales. She brings the stick back to her lips and examines her new room with close scrutiny. Noticing the stream of sunlight the dusty windowpanes ushered in, casting spots of light onto the wooden floorboard. The pale blue wall that her back slumped against flooded the rest of the room in an ironic attempt to brighten the obvious derelict condition of it.

She stood up collapsing over the bed; face down while rubbing the tip of the cigarette on the metal headboard.

"Violet we're home!"

Her mother's voice rang from the doorway, followed by the heavy footsteps of her father. Scrambling to spritz perfume around the room, she gathered herself up to confront the depressing ongoing charade, which she called her parent's marriage.

Don't get her wrong; clandestinely she only wanted to please them. Well… mostly her mother. But she wasn't one to plaster a smile on her face and pretend everything's okay. She didn't think of herself as a pessimist, just a harsh realist. And the reality of it was that her father was a cheating scum and she felt for her mother.

Running down the stairs a grin met her pink lips when she heard the squeak of certain part of the stairwell. Despite her protests of verbal distaste towards moving, she actually liked this house. It had soul. An old one too with a curious personality, and being the peculiar one she is she was determined to familiarize herself with every aspect of the house. The floorboard creaks, the scent of mahogany, the tears in the fading wallpaper. They all approached her as a unique quality, much like a curve in a dimpled smile or a freckled nose.

"Violet dear we need to talk to you." Violet whipped her head around to see her mother behind her looking slightly crossed.

Following her mother into the kitchen she sat on a stool across from her sullen looking father with his elbows atop the island, his head supported by his hands.

Her mother sat beside him, her face etched with seriousness. Something's wrong.

"Honey I'm sure you know how we left Boston for a fresh start from my…mistake." Her father started.

She rolled her eyes.

Her mother rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hand, easing the news.

"And we know we're asking a bit much of you for going through this whole transition with us. But what your father and I…what we're trying to get across is…"

"Your mother and I, are considering to get a div-"

Violet didn't get to hear the rest of it because she sprinted towards the front door, getting as far away from their bullshit as she can. Of course she'd have to deal with the repercussions of acting out, but not yet. She didn't want to deal with it, with all of this. Her parents simply didn't understand her. She was very well aware of their situation. After all walls are only so thin. Outside the afternoon sun hung in the Californian sky.

This definitely wasn't Boston.

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, realizing that she ran a good few blocks. Far enough where she couldn't go back and had to confront this new wonderland that she's been thrust into.

_The city of angels._

.

.

.

It was depressing.

The streets were ruled over by all sorts of human beings. To be a still point in a constant evolving city makes one feel so obscure and insignificant. And that's how Violet saw Los Angeles. Through her thick, round Nirvana sunglasses that dimmed her eyes, exaggerating her alien-like persona. Her blasting earphones droned out all other sounds and she was in her own world.

Crossing the street she saw a convenience store up ahead. It was getting dark out; she might as well get a piece of gum for the dinner she knows she'll miss.

Walking into the store the dim light above twitched. The place looked a bit rundown but nevertheless pretty neat. She was surprised when she saw a couple kids around her age in the back trying to buy what she thought was rum. She walked towards the candy aisle when one of them approached her. She looked from the corner of her eye to see an older shaggy blonde stop beside her.

"Hey," he grinned.

Pulling out her earbud she returned the greeting to him a bit irritated. Wanting to know what he wanted.

"Hey so are you busy tomorrow night? There's this new bar opening a few blocks from here and I'm trying to promote it. I'm the bartender, Patrick." He held out a hand, which she was a bit reluctant to shake, but did so anyways.

"Yeah, sure I guess. I'm Violet."

Patrick smiled widely. "That's such a lovely name, I've always wanted a daughter to be named Violet or something like that."

A bit confused as to what he was talking about, she saw a brunette man walk towards them. Putting a hand on Patrick's shoulder as if they've been married for years.

"Pat, don't scare the girl. Why're you inviting a girl anyways? We want to recruit women, not teenage girls."

"Chad you're so rude. She isn't a child she's probably in college or something. Just look at her she radiates maturity. How old are you darling?" he inquired.

"19." She lied. Normally she didn't like lying, it was a stupid thing teens would do. She considered herself better than that. She didn't have anything to hide or gossip about. She was straightforward and truthful. Except his offer seemed too intriguing for her age to intervene with.

"See! Chad you couldn't even tell the color difference between fuchsia and magenta. Leave it to you to criticize someone on the age you assume they are." He smized.

"Ugh, well sorry darling. Hope you can come then."

Violet nodded and smiled at the two. She watched them walk away with a fierce pep in their step. They made a cute couple.

.

.

.

"Where have you been young lady?" Violet was just creeping up the stairs after sneaking in through the front door. She looked up the stairwell to see her father apparently having witnessed her entrance.

"I was just taking a walk dad, chill out." She proceeded in walking back up until he blocked her way.

"Violet you aren't getting away that fast. You know your mother and I were very worried about you. We were even considering calling the cops!"

Violet rolled her eyes.

"Well why don't you two just screw and make up. Have another baby to care for. God, just don't take it out on me. Screw you guys." Ducking under his arm she sprinted up the stairs she ignored her father's protests. Locking her door she plopped onto her bed and took out her iPod. Frantically looking for something, anything to take her away.

_Brainstorm; take me away from the norm. _

Amber. One of the odd calming songs on her playlist that made her feel at peace. She fell onto her bed letting the soothing sounds wash over her worries. Sometimes when she closed her eyes she could go to her 'happy place.'

It's a secluded beach. She's sitting on the sand, watching the waves rolling with such massive force, nice and steady, eventually breaking to meet the shore. She could feel the sand beneath her skin, and the sun on her pale figure.

Then all of a sudden she felt a sudden overcast that blocked the sun's warmth.

This is when the tears fall. Where she clutches to her sides and lets her pain escape. Except she didn't really feel pained. She felt numb, pointless, like an outsider looking in. Despite the steel front that she puts up, this was what she really was. A teenage girl who wants nothing more than peace with herself and the hectic world she has been condemned to. Beside her bedside she saw the sick gleam of a blade and closed her eyes. Allowing her instincts to ensue.

**HI! Its the author, and I'm dead serious, pleaase give me some constructive criticism. This story has been tumbling in my head after watching all of AHS and I really want to do it justice, otherwise I'm fearful that I've screwed it all up and yeah... Please tell me what you think!**_  
_


	2. Hi, I'm Taint

Tate~

_"Cigarettes are disgusting. They're a nasty, goddamn lung killer tempted by Satan himself; as are alcohol and other drugs which affect our youth of today. They are a gateway of sin that ushers depression, aggressive behavior…"_

Tate read aloud Jude's email towards all school faculties, regarding the newest rules and regulations set at her precious beacon of excellence, Westfield High. To Tate it was all a bunch of bullshit. If you'd tell him his senior year that he were to return to be a teacher at Westfield, he would've told you that you were a sick, sick bastard.

Sighing he lounged back in his chair and rubbed his temples. Boy, and how far he was from his High School days. Once he got his diploma he rolled into college a new man. No longer that angst teen that idolized Kurt Cobain and thought of life as a filthy horror show. He didn't cling to those gloomy ideals anymore.

Despite what he thought he knew about life all at the age of 17, he was in a different battlefield, a different mindset. He still identified himself as divergent from the vapid lowlifes of his generation, yet he felt it necessary to abandon his pessimism and endure. His inner demons wouldn't have allowed him to give up completely though. The voices in his head gradually diminished in an eerie silence; like the calm before the storm. It scared him to death. To think that once he walks into his class he might break into an uncontrollable monster.

"No! No no no!" shaking his head in his hands Tate stared at the vexatious clock on the wall with its infernal ticking. Its 7pm on a Sunday night and time seems like his enemy. After a while of glancing longingly towards the door, he headed out of his apartment and walked into the unknown that is his new playground; The nightlife of Los Angeles.

…

It wasn't as if he were new to these necks of the woods. Oh no, he was a California native. And though growing up under a sassy, southern vixen of a mother, he did sneak out numerous times, but not necessarily to the enjoyable parts of L.A. Being the rebellious teen he was he ventured underground rock gigs or drug dealing alleyways to get his daily dose of medicine; the one that kept him sane.

A smile crept up to his face. He has certainly changed from back then. Not necessarily for the good…

_'And heeeee's the one, who, who, likes all our pretty songs. And he likes to sing alooooong. And he likes to shoot his guuuuun. But he knows not what it means. Knows now what it means and I say-'_

Tate heard the anthem of his adolescence being drunkenly slurred across the street at some new bar opening. Oh this he had to see.

Walking into the bar he noticed it was filled to the brim with happy drunks, some, which he suspected, were gay men. Settling on a lone one-person table in the corner he observed the drunken still singing on the karaoke stage.

"Get off the stage you're ruining a god damn classic!" Yelled another drunk across the room. Tate snickered.

"Can I get anything for you, Taint?"

Looking up from his gaze on the stage, the waiter beside him was none other than Chad; a fellow outcast from Westfield whom Tate actually didn't despise.

"Hey Chad, you fag how are you?"

"Not bad, this is my new bar with my beau. The blonde bartender there." Chad pointed towards the bar where a muscular blonde was mixing fruity drinks for a couple of girls. "How about you psycho, out on some sort of killing spree?"

This is what Tate liked about being an outcast from Westfield. They didn't really know each other well, but from what they knew of one another it was okay to joke around. No harsh feelings or offence taken. 'Its good to laugh in a sick world like this,' Tate used to think.

"Nope, I'm actually a teacher now…at Westfield."

The look on Chad's face was priceless.

"Well well well, back into the hell pit already? You my friend have a lot of endurance."

The blonde from the bar called over to Chad about some undecipherable emergency.

"Now that's my cue to leave. Ciao Langdon!" Chad pranced from the scene.

"What a fairy." He murmured. A flood of bittersweet nostalgia swept through him and all he could do was smile. The song soon ended and there were a few whoops once the guy stumbled off the stage and someone else sauntered over to replace him. Looking down immediately he didn't bother to see the next drunkard who could potentially slaughter another classic for him.

The audience was a little less rowdy yet a whole lot more excited for the next act. There were a few feedbacks on the mic of some shuffling. "Hi, I'm Violet and I'm probably going to make a fool of myself," the voice on stage replied. A few hollers of encouragement followed after the girl as a somewhat familiar tune started to dance across the bar which he was sure he heard his mother hum to. The cool guitar and bass ushered a mystical kind of feel to the song.

'Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night and wouldn't you love to love her?

Takes to the sky like a bird in flight and who will be her lover?

All your life you've never seen woman, taken by the wind.

Would you stay if she promised you heaven?

Will you ever win?'

Tate's head shot up once he heard the now recognizable Stevie Nicks song being sung by a graceful voice that flowed from the lips of a swaying girl. Eyes closed her pin straight blonde hair moved with the rhythm in which her body was entranced by. She didn't seem like she was a professional singer, but you could tell she puts out her soul into her song. An emotion that felt real. His eyes stayed fixated at her awkwardly, he felt like how he did the first time he heard Nirvana. He could remember it with flawless clarity…

It was 1994 and he was fuming at his mother. She took his Walkman and broke the CD's that he got from the record shop. All because he talked back to her boyfriend Larry, and boy was he a twat. After pacing in his room he waited till he heard his mother and Larry walk down the stairwell and out of the house. Once he heard their departure, he made way to his mother's room, on a mission to take her jewelry and sell them for the CD's she broke. Rummaging through her closet he found a radio above the shelf. He retrieved it, found some batteries and started to tune through the static. Of course the last station it was fixed on was country. Rolling his eyes he kept his fingers on the knob, until he heard an announcer talk avidly about this MTV unplugged cover by a band called Nirvana. Tate was sure he'd heard that name before, floating around the halls at school, but he'd never heard them. Most days he skipped school and didn't really socialize to those other kids. He was a smart kid and didn't really find interest in interacting with the kids in his grade.

"And from their amazing performance, here is Nirvana doing 'the man who sold the world…"

Needless to say the rest was history.

"Thanks guys, that was fucking awesome!"

Snapping out of his flashback Tate noticed that the song finished. The girl's eyes opened revealing amber orbs that reflected the smile that beamed on her perfect pink lips. She bowed dramatically and Tate was able to get a better look at her. Observing the black dress that hung on her pale figure and reached her calf. It was very non-revealing and he thought girls her age would've never considered a dress like that. But for her it worked. The rest of her attire was black as well, with her combat boots and bracelets that jumbled on her wrists in a suspicious way. He wanted to meet her.

Making way through the crowd of drunks was the difficult part, especially when some of the men clawed at him and whispered very sexual things into his ear. He saw the girl beginning to make way towards the bar near the bartender whose name he learnt was Patrick.

"Oh crap! What time is it Pat?" Violet panicked when she realized that the time went by.

"Its um…9. Why? I thought you said that your college roommate was cool with you staying out a bit."

"Um, yeah but it's a long story. Fuck, I gotta go Patty!" she blew a kiss to Patrick and fled the bar with ease as the other men made way for her.

Tate swore under his breath as he saw the girl leave. He saw Chad walking up to talk to Patrick and approached them.

"Hey, do you guys know who that girl was?"

"Enchanting right? Oh you should've seen, Pat here scouted her out at a convenience store-totally out of the blue- and then-"

"Chad are you always this gay when you explain things?" I asked. Irritated by his need to get into unnecessary detail. "You seriously sound like my mother."

A look of hurt spread over Chad's face.

"Ouch! I may be a queen but I won't be the mother." He replied, Patrick laughing beside him.

"Oh forget it you drag. I should go soon, it's a school night. Nice bar you have here."

Tate left the bar the same way he came in; disappointed, fearful and quite tired. To think tomorrow is his first day as a teacher scared him to death. Anything could happen.

**Toootally unedited and I probably won't get to that in a while since I have school and other derpy stuff to deal with. This spacing is irking on this website and that drives me nuts, ugh. BY THE WAY, if you haven't heard I've turned this story into a T/S or Teacher and Student love story because I'm so intrigued by those and wanted to do one for Violate...you know...for reasons...Thanks for reading, I promise to update faster!**


	3. Detention

Violet~

Deciding that it was way too hot to wear a cardigan Violet rummaged through her drawers to find even more bracelets to hide her wrists. Observing the clean scribbles on her skin she stared in fascination. It was sort of healing. And with the bulk of black bands that hugged her wrists like a shield, it was a secret for only her to know. There was nothing to see or talk about.

Looking at the clock she was about ready to leave. Grabbing her grey converse and knapsack she headed out the door. She told her parents she wanted to walk to school in the mornings, and that's exactly what she was doing. While her father went running in the morning waiting on his clients and her mother slept in till noon, she appreciated the silence. Gathering her thoughts about the hellhole she was eventually descending into.

School wasn't really a concern for her academically. She loved learning. And as her father bragged to his clients, she was 'technically' an academic achiever with a student IQ north of 150. Violet rolls her eyes whenever her father boasts of his only child. She couldn't hate him for wanting the best for her, even if it meant going to Harvard or some bullshit like that. But she was only trying to make her parents happy. Because god forbid they've ever considered her happiness, even with this move to Los Angeles.

Which drew her towards the conclusion that this, this walk to a Los Angeles high school were one of the examples on how her parents never take into account for her own happiness. She could already envision the scenario, walking down a hallway of beach blonde bitches with their bourgeois designer bullshit and horrid west coast slang.

Oh that was enough for Violet to instinctively grab her Marlboro pack and brush her fingers across to retrieve a stick- that is until someone else's hands stop hers from proceeding.

"And just what do you think you're going to do with that?"

Violet looked up from the larger rough hand that stopped hers, her light amber eyes looking up to meet with dark onyx ones. She gulped when she noticed the obvious height and age difference between the both of them; all the while a sloppy, dimpled grin met the other boy's face.

"I-uh, um…" She drew a blank. Her words were failing her and she was afraid the next thing she said would be nervous word vomit, so she shut her mouth and crudely returned her pack 1into her bag. That was until the boy pulled it out of her hand and opened it for her. Nervously meeting his gaze she slowly pulled one out while he dug in his back pocket for a lighter. Sparking the flame to her stick he stared fascinated as an equal burning glowed in her eyes.

"I don't mean to encourage your vices, even though I am, but I'll just have to remind you not to do this again on or near school grounds." Tate replied coolly. "I'm Tate, by the way." He held out his hand.

Violet returned the greeting and gripped his warm hand with her icy cold ones. "Violet."

"Violet." He repeated. She nodded in acknowledgement. After a couple seconds she abruptly withdrew from their close distance at an attempt to maintain her composure. Lightly tapping out the ashes from her cigarette.

"Well Tate, appreciate the warning and whatever. See you around." She replied keeping her cool. Turning around she slowly walked away from him and continued to inhale her smoke until the school entrance came into better view. Eventually stubbing it out with her shoe. While walking up towards the steps and into the hallway she looked around. Trying to find her locker-

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Violet turned around to see a raging brunette girl pounce towards her. The girl was obviously older than Violet, with an icy blue stare that didn't falter when she was up in Violet's face.

"Don't you know new school policies about smoking AND littering on school grounds?"

-"Ever heard of second hand smoking?"

-"Yeah, that shit kills. And I sure as hell won't die at the hands of a drab, emo wannabe that's lower than shit."

"Now eat it or I'll beat the shit out of you."

Violet absorbed all that was coming from the 3 droids before her. Barely giving a fuck,

Having been very well acquainted with this whole situation, this was just a broken record that was the soundtrack of her life; she was way over this whole bullying crap.

"I'm not afraid of you." She finally said.

The leader smiled in turn. This was a nonverbal declaration of war that said, 'Honey, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into.' Though Violet stood stone-faced, totally unfazed by whatever 'threat' that this girl before her tried to muster.

"You should be, because I'm your worst nightmare, bitch."

"Well welcome back to school, _ladies_." Both girls turned their heads after hearing a strong southern voice dripping with authority. Before them sauntered a well aged women with classic blonde beauty. Violet noticed how her hair was stuck in the 60s, as was her tacky, blue floral dress. The rest of the early morning stragglers around silenced as the clicking of her pronounced black heels approached the two girls.

"He-hello Miss Jude."

"Why hello there Leah. Showing around our newest addition to Westfield High?" she arched a brow at the girl who was previously threatening me.

"Uh huh, yes ma'am." She muttered.

"Well Jesus H. Christ Leah, it seemed more like you were trying to teach Miss Violet here a lesson. Isn't that so?"

"Miss Jude I witnessed this girl smoking on school property and stamping it out, thus littering as well. She should be stopped!"

Miss Jude clicked her tongue at Violet. "Now we've got a wild one here, ain't we?"

Violet didn't fear the lady before her who eyed her quite uncomfortably. As if she were looking right through Violet's sarcasm and boldness. As if she could actually see Violet…not like anyone ever did anyways.

"I'm new here I didn't know." This sparked an interest in Miss Jude.

"Now that is right! You didn't know! But you will know, and learn, my dear. The good old fashion way that I see perfectly suit for mischievous deviants such as yourself." A smile spread across the old hag's face; Violet's punishment rested at the back of her throat, her words the gavel sentencing her to it.

.

.

.

Violet stared down at the pages of her novel, not really making any effort to concentrate on the sling of words. It was a novel she found in her father's study room that she read numerous times before and found great interest in it. Though overanalyzing this depressing Russian novel, she couldn't see the attraction she was once drawn to at first.

"Ah, Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins."

Violet's head snapped up at Tate's voice as he was settling onto the teacher's desk before her. He was the detention instructor for the afternoon…and the rest of the week.

"More like Lolita, the immature, jailbait slut." She replied cynically, staring back down at her book. She could here his snickering and grinned a bit.

"Well interesting literary choice then. Didn't quite understand it myself. Humbert Humbert, old, self-indulging man who tries to justify his sick desire for Delores. His 12-year-old 'nymphet.' It's…uncomfortable."

"Well it's supposed to be uncomfortable, it's got a complex, fucked up plot that people can't see past." Tucking a dark blonde lock behind her ear, she exhaled deeply. It's a first talking to someone, let alone a teacher, who doesn't want to talk about some lame topic she wouldn't be the least bit interested in.

"Nobody thinks they can empathize with Humbert regarding his lack of morality, but really, can't we all? Despite his twisted obsession its understandable how his drive for something so tempting can be comparable to our own sinful needs. We're all capable of evil; this whole goddamn world is just filled to the brim with it. Fools."

Tate grinned at the clever girl.

"You seem to have a unique perspective on this fiction tale of lust and life." _You're so young and naïve though_, he thought.

"The only thing that bothers me with this story is that it's true. Lolita is real. She is the whisper of temptation that unwittingly harbors our shortcomings. And its just like, life really is a bitch. You know?" Violet thought of her father and his recent infidelity.

"Oh yes, I know."

Violet lifted her gaze from the names etched on her wooden desk and looked at Tate. Or Mr. Langdon as Miss Jude instructed her to address him. The way he slightly rocked back in his chair and played with his thumbs, he didn't seem too distant from her world.

"Mr. Langdon can I please leave early? I've got homework and shit to do."

Snapping his head up to look at the clock Tate saw that there was roughly 10 more minutes to detention. "Sure, I guess."

Grabbing her belongings Violet dashed out into the hallway, leaving behind the squeaks of her Converse against the tiles as she left.

Having to explain getting detention on the first day of school to her parents was something she'd want to avoid. It'd give her father the chance to talk to her about school and bullying or whatever, when he and her mother knew damned well that she will forever be misunderstood. Always have been always will be.

**A/N: Hehe, wow it must've been a lot later than I expected...but here ya go! I'm still trying to flesh out the plot and get a feel of their characters and their contrasts from the original AHS, but overall I'm loving the feedback! Yay for reviews! This is much more fun than homework but it surely isn't a cakewalk... Hope I can finish earlier uploads since its almost summer :D**


	4. Hayden

Tate~

"Mr. Langdon? Get up."

Tate's head shot up when he heard the revolting yet familiar voice of Principal Jude, his boss. His sleepy eyes hazily drifted to the clock on the wall, it was half past 4 already.

"Mr. Langdon, detention is over you can go home now." She was right in front of his desk, how had he not noticed this at first? This woman was a frightening lady as well as an annoying sex symbol. You're either aroused or fearful near her, mostly the latter. Except in Tate's case he couldn't stand the woman. She reminded him of his very own godforsaken mother.

"Thanks Jude, I'll see you tomorrow then." He finally replied to ease the dragon before him. Though she did not seem too pleased.

"Very well; but just so you know, I'd keep an eye on that Violet girl from earlier if I were you. That girl just spells trouble."

"With a capital T that rhymes with P that stands for pool?" he murmured to himself while she was leaving. Apparently she heard when she turned on her heel to give him the evil eye.

"That's right, right here in River city." She snorted. So the beast had a sense of humor…

When she finally left his classroom relief flooded through him like a gush cold shower surging through his head to his entire body. It was refreshing, yet very unpleasant.

This was his life now; an evened schedule of strain and serene, all amounting to a very boring existence. It was maddening.

Tate checked his phone, 3 new messages and 4 missed calls-all by the same person. He groaned back in his wooden chair and placed a hand over his temples, soothing out the headache that the memories brought with them. Deciding now was the best time to gather his shit and get the hell out of this school. It would only add to the migraine that was coming on.

Once he reached his car in the parking lot he started to read through the texts. Staring at the 'from' region of the message mostly, repeating the name in his head as if it were a chant. One if said too much could summon the demon herself.

Hayden.

They met in college, he was getting his degree in teaching while she in Psychology. At first glance he felt as if he was in love. And for a while he thought he could actually love. They just seemed like a good idea in his head. A smart, pretty, sarcastic girl who shares similar views on the world with him…(well not exactly but pretty darn close.) And he, a protector to his seemingly dainty flower, it was perfect. She was perfect.

Her auburn hair sprawled throughout his pillow while his arm gripped her curvy, sleeping figure. The white linen sheets the only thing hiding their decency. Whenever she'd toss or turn a smile would creep to his lips, she was his perfect, beautiful thing.

He'd replay that scene over and over in his head, even when he was yelling at her for being a goddamn, filthy cheater. With all the rage that rested at the bottom of his core, he must've been a frightening sight. Never had he had genuine hate pump through his veins, all because of one person. Of course he despised people, but she was the first he actually hated with all his demented being. As well as the first he loved with his psychotic passion. And he hoped to never love again to avoid the shit she put him through. From all of the drugs he'd ever screwed around with, she was the worst. And so far he's been 2 years sober…that is until she called him last week.

She got his number from god knows where and drunk called him. At first he was completely livid with this she beast having the audacity to call him. Once his anger settled to stark somberness he finally gave in to meeting her at her location and drive her home as a designated driver.

When she walked out of that club with the bouncer holding up her clingy body to his arm, he scanned her body in awe. She had definitely grown into her once lanky figure. Needless to say this girl turned out to be his sin of the night, his guilty pleasure. Within the 3 weeks after that he kept in touch with her. She told him that she moved into the area and would love a little 'house warming party,' and for him to join. He knew that meant she would invite a bunch of her old frat boy friends, which he once was, and get them all drunk off their ass and high as a kite. Funny story, they met at a frat party for his house- she walked in on him doing a few lines.

…

"Aren't you a good boy, taking your medicine." Her voice like velvet slurred and dripped with seduction. That sultry look in her eyes caught his full attention. Suddenly this magnificent feeling of high mocked him, he had never felt so satisfied as he did with just one long look at this pretty face. He put down the 20-dollar bill he rolled up into a straw, and wiped away the remaining powder on his desk.

"Don't be too quick to put labels on me sweetheart. I'm rotten to the core." He replied, barely caring if it sounded cheesy or lame. She was drunk and he was high, their judgment and criticism were clouded and irrelevant. Watching as she made her way beside him, he noticed her gaze never left his.

"Ditto." Her face moved closer to his, he felt fear strike his heart like lightning, a pleasurable jolt of feeling. As if he'd been near the verge of death and she revived him. "These violent delights have violent ends." She taunted in a hushed tone. His face inched closer to hers.

"And in their triumph die, like fire and powder. Which as they kiss, consume." She cut him off with her lips on his and he tilted his head against hers.

It was probably the first and last time he'd kiss a stranger. Even now she seems like a stranger to him. Her bolder attitude and new curves are foreign. Back then she seemed well aware of her power and charm, but now she boldly walks with it in stride, daunting and desirable all at the same time.

"Hayden." He said aloud. Shaking his head, he mentally berated himself. In his head he was yelling, '_Curse that name and vile woman!_' His heart and arousal were in opposition.

Putting his key into the ignition he made his long and lonely journey home. Nearing a stoplight it was then that he felt his phone vibrate. Reluctantly he answered, prepared to hear the other end of the line.

"Hey there lover boy. You coming over or am I going to have to stay here all by my lonesome self?"

Tate could already tell on the other end a pouty face resting on her lips. Thinking about her elfish features made him chuckle. "I don't know, that depends." He paused, building up suspension.

"Hmm?"

"On whether or not you really are alone or if you have another man in a relationship on speed dial. Or if I'm not just some pawn in your sick game, you bitch. " He didn't know where he mustered this sudden rage; it just came out of the blue. But whatever, it was the truth that he was thinking. Not wanting to filter what he truly felt, he waited for her response.

"Well okay Tate, seems like I've caught you at a bad time. Call me later when you pull that stick out of your ass!" she retaliated, crudely cutting off their conversation from there. Tate just wanted to forget he ever met that she-devil in the first place. Damn that woman and her parasitical nature. She was a vindictive home wrecker. That bitch broke his heart yet he knew he'd never go to heaven and this part of hell burned too invitingly.

"God what is wrong with me?" he parked his car into his driveway and closed his eyes.

Slowly making his way out of is car, he grabbed his briefcase from the back and clutched it against his arms. Just today it definitely gained some weight of sophomore paper essays that needed to be graded. He internally groaned just thinking about having to grade them. These kids, honestly, were a bit dull. Not in the sense that they're colorless, un-teachable kids. It was just that they're actually the opposite, they were all cheery and smiles and nothing like how they were back when he was in school. Their clique segregation wasn't as dramatic or proud to be of. It just felt odd how they've changed yet stayed the same since he was in school. Nowadays if you're an outsider it seems like you're standing alone. There isn't a freak flag or grungy punk rock bands to embrace or cradle you through these 4 years. The only person who came to mind as a stick out from the crowd was Violet.

"Tate?" His head snapped out of his train of thought and looked to the girl who was right beside him.

"Violet? What…what are you doing here? Do you live near here or something?" he inquired. She furiously shook her head looking downwards. As if she were caught guilty of something. She wore the same flower print dress and Chucks that she did to school, if anything her eyeliner smudged a bit. Her dark blonde hair danced in the autumn wind.

"No nothing like that, I was just walking on my way home and saw you here." She shrugged. It still didn't make sense as to why she wasn't home already when she left half an hour before he did.

"Well shouldn't you be home already?" His onyx eyes tried to search hers but they refused to meet his.

"I mean I guess…" she dragged on, looking at the road and the flash of cars passing by.

A smirk threatened to spread on his lips, god damn she was the rebel girl he thought she was. He totally called it. Sneaking into a bar under 21 to do Karaoke, smoking on school grounds- this girl seriously had some balls.

"Ahh, no need to explain yourself. Out on some sort of excursion through the city, huh?" he arched an eyebrow. She almost felt like turning red.

"What are you suggesting Mr. Langdon? That I have a secret double life working the corner of Santa Monica for a little extra cash?" she arched her brow at him. A wide smile broke onto Tate's face.

"Naw, you're such a prude. I would've known if you'd do something so outrageous. You might be crazy but you aren't some tramp." Her eyes widened at this, her mouth forming an 'O' as she took mock offense to that. Tate wanted to mentally slap himself for saying something so risky like that to a student.

"Well just to let you know I'm new to this side of hell and I was just getting familiar with the area. You know, finding the best drug dealing alleyways, up and coming underground rock gigs, all that fun stuff." He knew she was joking but god that was teenage Tate down to a tee.

As soon as she changed the subject she checked her watch, disappointment marred her features. " Sorry but I've gotta go, see you at school."

Just before he could give some snarky remark she fled out from the parking lot. What he saw next surprised him.

There she was, the billowy image of a grunge baby doll. She was running towards the streets and suddenly stuck her thumb out until the first car near her yielded. He watched as Violet climbed into the passenger's seat and told the man her address. Confused as to what just happened Tate just grinned. Walking up to his apartment he shook off any kind of worrisome thought that crept into his mind. He shouldn't be too concerned but he was. Not in the legally obligated way that he should be though.

**A/N: Kinda faster update...please review and tell me what you think, even if you completely hate it or think i'm using too much similes or if it's too short or whatever. I can take it, I won't cry I promise...I Love Favs and followers but love reviews even more! If you got any ideas PM me as well, ta ta till then!**


	5. Gabe

Violet~

It's been a week in counting since the move to L.A. and to Violet, she had endured 5 days of executive after school detention, being the recipient of single handed harassment from Leah, as well as getting a job at a coffee shop in the city. The latter was the only thing she was subjected to voluntarily.

"Hi, can I help you?"

The blonde girl before her was the standard customer she had to deal with. Californian white girl with enormous sunglasses to match her own superficial ego; the clothes were always fashionable and tight fitting and her bleach blonde hair was unnaturally perfect.

"Well duh, give me one of your tall non-fat no whip pumpkin spice latte." The girl held a credit card between her perfectly manicured nails and went back to furiously texting something on her phone.

"Gabe I need a shallow Californian girl drink, pronto."

Gabe grinned back at Violet as he started to make the overrated drink. She smirked in his direction and attended to the next customer.

"Hi can I help the next customer?" she bit her lip.

"Darling perhaps I can help you?"

A smug smile spread on Chad's face as he went up to hug Violet from behind the counter, she returned the hug gleefully.

"What are you doing here?" she asked surprised he was at her job.

"Getting my tall non-fat no whip pumpkin spice latte on! It's fall sweetheart, to a Californian we don't anticipate any seasonal changing of the leaves color. We order coffee and wear uggs, no matter how cliché sweater whether is."

Violet stared back at her very gay friend, suppressing her giggle. He was being very serious.

"Well I see…." She paused, turning towards Gabe once more. "Gabe, one more white girl latte!"

"Hey!" Chad playfully pushed Violet while she laughed at him. "Don't subject me so lowly. I actually take offense to that."

"Oh shut up. If you had a vagina you'd be just like those stuck up rich girls who come here everyday."

"If…" he smirked, arching one of his caterpillar eyebrows at Violet.

"Hey Violet got your two -whoa!" Spilling half of the hot searing coffee on Violet, Gabe fell flat on his ass tripping on a wet spot on the floor. Incoherent apologies flowed from his mouth.

"Its really okay. I'll…I'm just going to go change. I'll get you the mop afterwards." Violet awkwardly shuffled to the bathroom, her lavender peasant skirt dripping hot coffee on the floor. Looking into the employee bathroom mirror, she saw the coffee stains smudging her white long sleeved shirt. She wiped the burning liquid off of her the best she could, but she didn't really have any extra clothes.

A knock on the bathroom door followed by Chad's voice broke her concentration. "Honey! Are you in there?"

"Yeah, I'm in here. Come in."

Chad walked in cautiously, making sure not to smudge his new Aldo's. Out of this entire mess she swore she saw his lips quirk up to a devious smile.

"Please tell me you have no extra clothes, otherwise I'll douse them in coffee as well." He grinned.

"Umm, no…" she stared warily at Chad. "What-do, do you? Have any extra clothes?" At this he squealed.

"Yes! I browsed through American Apparel Outfitters the other day and this snotty Valley girl bitch gave Pat and I the evil eye while coughing 'fag' near us, and ugh. When she turned around I stole her basket and bought the last stock of the denim washed out jean shorts, and oh the look on her face! You had to be there." He laughed evilly.

"Yeah well do you have the clothes on you?" she asked impatiently.

"In my trunk. Hold on sweetie let me go get it."

As soon as Chad returned he smiled brightly, tossing Violet a whole new outfit. It was barely much fabric from what she could feel, it was more like summer beach wear…which in California was pretty much standard style.

"Tell me if it fits!" he said before he left her to herself. This was probably the 'make over' that he inadvertently expected to happen. Sighing she removed her soaking baggy clothing and started to try on the high wasted denim shorts and salmon pink and white striped tank. Her white converse was the only thing that was her, other than that the exposure and accentuation of her skin and body was not Violet. She tied her long hair into a braid to keep out of her face. Once she walked out Chad's eyes widened.

"I knew it! You had a figure!" he teased. "Well, a figure that isn't drowning in grungy baggy fabric."

Violet rolled her eyes. "Ha ha." She was about to walk to the closet to retrieve a mop for Gabe but Chad stopped her.

"No need to, I already gave him one."

"Oh. Well, thank you?"

Chad checked his nails, holding them up to his eyes for closer examination. "Oh forget it. It was my pleasure. God if only I were a few years younger…that Gabe is such a hot twink." He smirked.

"Ew. What?" This thoroughly confused Violet.

"Oh don't tell me you haven't been checking out Cuban Pete and his Casanova charms."

"Gabe is Spanish. And he's not cute or charming or whatever…he's just Gabe." She replied.

"Well I'm just saying." He tucked a strand of hair that fell from her braid behind her ear.

Wasn't he _just_ Gabe?

….

"Hey wait up!" Violet turned around as she was already walking halfway down the street onto the crosswalk. Behind Gabe was running towards her with her mustard yellow cardigan.

"I found this in your locker that you left open, again." He grinned, passing it to her. "It's getting cold, you know."

Violet took her cardigan and thanked Gabe. Slipping it across her slender arms she instantly felt warmer from the bustling of the wind. They almost went past her shorts and actually went pretty well with her outfit.

"So, are you going home now?" She nodded looking up from her gaze on the ground and into his coffee brown eyes. They were kind and inviting and reflected his genuine smile. His curly brown locks fell into his eyes and she couldn't help but stare.

"Um, yeah. I- I was just on my way…walking home." What was wrong with her? She's already known him for a week, why do these little details suddenly stand out to her?

"Yeah, same." She noticed his skateboard tucked into his arm and blue beanie that he clutched to his side.

"You're a skater?"

He beamed one of those brilliant smiles at her. It contrasted well with his dark and tanned features. She couldn't help but return the smile as well.

"Yeah, why? Has the skater boy lost his chance? Please don't say see you later boy." He chuckled.

Violet just crossed her arms rolling her eyes at him. Not at all impressed.

"Trying too hard?" he asked. She nodded, hesitantly looking at him. His gaze never left hers though.

"Well tell you what, how bout I make it up to you. I know this skate warehouse nearby."

"Yeah but I can't skate."

"You don't have to. Just chill on the side with all the other skater's girlfriends." She blushed, hitting him hard on the arm.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry! Trying too hard again?" Violet gave him a death glare that said, 'you think?'

Gabe laughed throwing his head back.

"Seriously let me make it up to you. Come hang with me, if your parents get mad that you're late my folks will just explain to them." He grabbed Violet's hand, flinching at how cold it was. "Your hand is really cold."

"You know hell is cold." She released his grip, looking downwards.

"What?"

"Hell is cold." She said louder. "I've read in Dante's Inferno that hell has 9 levels, and the 9th is the coldest. Its because its farther away from God's warmth or whatever. This should assure that the saying 'until hell freezes over' is totally invalid, since it's freezing already."

Grinning at the peculiar girl beside him, Gabe once again grasped Violet's cold hand into his warm one. "You're pretty weird aren't you?"

Violet just shrugged. "So what's your answer? Yes or no? Will you go on a date with me Violet Harmon?"

Looking into his puppy dog eyes that pleaded for her to come with him, she smiled broadly at the boy beside her.

"Until hell freezes over."

**A/N: Updates will be coming quicker since school is over *sigh* finally! Don't worry readers! This is a Violate story, just don't lose hope ;)**


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